Fractured Earth Saga 1: Apocalypse Orphan (36 page)

“Yes, Wolf. Go to Nala and tell her. She will throw her life away in the first battle she fights if you don’t give her hope.”

“I will tell her tonight after we make camp and eat,” Wolf replied, torn by conflicting emotions. He set out after Nala at a brisk stride and caught up with her as the trail turned east. They walked in silence, each absorbed in the throes of their own inner turmoil.

As the first shadows of late afternoon played over the forest, Wolf spotted a pond in a rocky canyon, fed by a natural spring that bubbled down the craggy hillside to the rocks below. “We'll camp here,” he said.

An hour later, they had finished a meal and were sitting by a campfire. The warm glow of the flames illuminated Nala’s face as Wolf gazed at her and saw tears in her eyes. She looked up and caught his gaze, then looked away, ashamed.

“I’m sorry if I displease you, my lord. I will move away.” Nala stood and began walking away from the campfire.

“Nala, I have something I want to say. Please stay.”

With a defeated shrug, Nala returned to the fire and dropped to the ground like a rag doll. “How may I serve you, my lord?” she asked, avoiding his gaze.

“I do not understand your customs, Nala, but is there a chance Haakon will take you back?”

“A shamed woman can never return to the man who cast her out. I would have to kill him and then myself by cutting my own throat across his body. I will not do that to my children and leave them with that horrible memory. I would rather be a whore than leave them orphans. There is no going back. Haakon and I are finished.”

“I was afraid you would say that,” Wolf admitted.

“Afraid? Why? You fear no one and you are afraid of nothing. So why do you say you are afraid?” she asked, forcing a weak smile at Wolf’s uncomfortable look.

“Nala, I will take you as my woman when we return. Will you accept me?”

Nala’s jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly and asked, “What about Syn? She is my friend and I love her. I could never take her man. I am truly grateful for your offer, but no, I will not accept you.” In a small voice, she added, “Even though I want to.”

“Commander, do you see why I love that woman? Keep her safe,” Syn said in Wolf’s ear. “I hold you responsible for her safety.”

“Nala, promise me you will not let yourself to be injured in battle. Give me your solemn word.”

“I will battle with care,” Nala promised. “Thank you for restoring my pride. The thought that you, of all men, find me desirable is flattering beyond all words.” She stood and walked off into the darkness. Wolf could not see her, but he could hear her crying softly.

“We are doing the right thing, Commander. I will talk to Skylla and let you know what must be done to satisfy the Nannas’ custom. In the meantime, keep Nala safe. I mean it, Wolf!”

Chapter 25

A
s Syn walked out of the tent, she found Skylla conversing with Brithee and Leesa by the balustrade, recounting stories of their grandmother and of life as a Nanna. The girls would soon learn the skills they would need to survive. Skylla had drilled them in rudimentary combat, and Brithee showed her mother’s quickness and dexterity. Leesa was less agile and needed to lose twenty pounds to trim up, but Skylla was confident that she would make a reasonably competent Nanna warrior in time.

Syn approached quietly and asked, “Skylla, can I talk to you?”

“Of course. Girls, go and clean up. We will talk more later,” Skylla said to Brithee and Leesa. She followed Syn to the parapet overlooking the village below and asked, “What’s on your mind, Syn?”

“Wolf will choose Nala as his mate,” Syn said with authority.

“What? I was told you and Wolf are betrothed,” Skylla replied, her eyes clouding with concern. “Now you must fight Nala to the death. It is the way of the Nanna. You will lose face if you do not fight for your man.” She seemed annoyed at Syn’s willingness to give up her man so easily.

“No, Skylla, I will not fight for Wolf. I love your sister, and I will not see her shamed because her husband is a jackass. I will do whatever I need to do to help Nala,” Syn affirmed.

“You shame me, Syn. I turned my back on Nala, and I was wrong to do so. When she returns, I will go into exile with her.”

“Skylla, there will be no exile. Wolf will do what I tell him to do!” Syn spoke with such confidence and unwavering intensity in her eyes that Skylla took a step back and gazed at her with newfound respect.

“As you wish, mistress,” Skylla demurred, surprising Syn with her odd choice of words and submissive response.

Later that afternoon, Syn noticed a group of Nanna warriors congregating around the tent. As the gathering grew to about twenty, Skylla called, “Mistress, will you come outside, please?”

Syn appeared in the doorway, dressed in her candy striper outfit. The Nannas whispered and stared at her with looks that ranged from reverence and awe to lusty desire. Syn’s physique was picture-perfect, and her outfit accentuated her curves. She gave the women a friendly smile and asked, “Hello, Skylla, what do you need?”

Skylla and her warriors placed their right hands on their breasts, fingers spread in a gesture reminiscent of the peace sign on ancient Earth, and intoned, “Mistress, we honor you.”

“What’s going on, Skylla?”

“You have been chosen. You are our Enrica,” Skylla answered.

“Enrica? An Old Norse term that means powerful. I assume you want me to lead you, but I am not of your race, Skylla.”

“The honor is not one you can choose to reject. You must accept or we must try to kill you,” a prodigious, muscle-bound woman said. “We have been told you love our queen’s daughter like a sister and offered your man to her to take her shame away. It is an unselfish act, and one our future generations will speak of as legend and with honor. We saw your fighting skills the night Nala’s man was injured. You are a great warrior. You are our Enrica.”

Looking into the faces of the Nanna warriors and seeing it was pointless to argue, Syn responded with a hint of impatience, “Fine. So be it.”

* * *

Wolf and Nala had been walking south for most of the afternoon. As they reached a bend in the trail, Nala froze, sniffing the air, and then drew her whip and dagger. Wolf noticed that she had become so feral, he wasn’t sure the old Nala ever would return. “My people watch us,” she warned in a low voice. “Prepare yourself…and try not to kill too many of them if you can avoid it.”

The attack came from three directions, forcing Wolf and Nala to the left side of the trail, which was blocked by fallen trees and enormous boulders. Nala shouted over the screams of the onrushing Nannas, “It’s a trap, Wolf. Nets will drop over us, and they will try to entangle you with whips. Be careful.”

Moments later, as Nala had predicted, heavy nets dropped over Wolf. Nala avoided the nets with her acrobatic skills and snapped her whip with devastating accuracy, causing several of the attackers to yell in pain. Wolf stood, entangled in the nets, watching Nala as she battled with her tribe. Her agility and skill were remarkable. She had somehow acquired a second whip and was using both hands to fight off the attackers. Her hair flew in the wind, framing the intense look on her face like a poignant snapshot. She disarmed several warriors by striking their hands with her whip ends. Others came at her, but Nala repelled them and blocked their strikes with her whip’s barbs. She dived, rolled, and then back-flipped herself to Wolf’s side.

“Are you all right?” Nala asked, her breathing labored from exertion. She knelt and tried to untangle Wolf from the whips and nets held taut by the other warriors.

“I’m fine, Nala. I can break free easily. I was watching you fight,” Wolf admitted with respect and admiration in his eyes. Suddenly, he yelled, “Look out!” as two wolves attacked. Nala whirled and smacked both in the nose at the same instant, causing them to whimper in pain.

“Hold, Nanna!” a rich, timbered voice ordered.

An older female approached. Wolf saw that she was dark, exotic, perhaps a descendant from the country known as Brazil on Old Earth. Her hair was long and jet-black, dropping to the middle of her back. Her face was oval with large, dark eyes, and her lips were full. She was taller than Nala, but Wolf recognized the likeness and knew the woman was Nala’s mother.

“Nala?” the woman asked in shocked disbelief. She looked her up and down, sniffing the air, first with suspicion, and then with amazement. “At first, I couldn’t believe my eyes, but the nose never lies,” she said, reaching out and hugging her. “My baby, I thought you were dead. How can this be?”

“Yes, Mother, it is I. It is a long story we will discuss later. I have returned now only to bring this brave warrior to meet you.”

The woman gave Wolf an appraising look and flashed a predator’s smile. “Well, well, he is a hefty one. Is this a coming home gift for me, Nala?”

“No, Mother, he is the Warrior of Legend. His name is Wolf.”

The woman approached him, touching his chest and arms through the nets. “He is as hard as the rocks of this land. Tell me, Nala, is he your man?”

Nala blushed and replied, “He has shown interest in me, Mother, but that’s not why we have come here. We serve King Waylan.”

“You serve our enemy?” The woman looked aghast and backed away from her daughter as if she had seen a ghost. “Nala, what have you done?”

Wolf had seen enough and grasped the netting that ensnared him, ripping away the thick mesh as if tearing strips of flimsy paper. He freed himself in a matter of seconds and tossed the netting on the ground. He took several steps towards the Nanna queen, and suddenly, whips sliced through the air, ensnaring his arms and legs from all angles. Wolf continued to advance, snapping the leather whips like gossamer strings and dragging several muscular Nanna warriors behind him like a child pulling a toy wagon. Stopping in front of the queen, he smiled and said in a friendly voice, “Hello ma’am, I am Wolf. I want to talk to you about joining me.”

Astonished by what she had just seen, the woman swallowed hard and replied, “Let us talk in my tent. I will have food prepared. Follow me, big man.” Wolf and Nala followed the queen and her warriors to their camp in the hills overlooking this forest glen. It was a half-hour walk, and when they arrived, Wolf saw a scarlet tent erected in the middle of the clearing. He followed the woman into the tent, accompanied by Nala. The interior was comfortable, decorated with numerous rugs and pieces of handcrafted furniture.

“Sit,” the queen commanded. Turning to Nala, she asked, “What happened to you, my daughter. Why did you not return to take your rightful place by my side?”

“You know I was sick of the killing, Mother. After the last battle, Jonar’s men hounded me without mercy until I left our lands. I married a man and had children. I was happy for many years. Then, this war started. I knew I would come back to you one day…and now I have.”

Nala dropped her eyes to her hands and quietly confessed, “Mother, I must tell you…I have been shunned by a man in front of witnesses.” She broke into tears, and Wolf had never seen a woman look so frail and helpless.

“Chockta! Attend me,” the queen commanded in an angry voice.

A powerful, battle-scarred woman entered the tent, saying, “Yes, my queen?”

“Escort this outcast from my presence.” Glaring at Nala with contempt, the queen added, “Leave this tent at once! Camp on the outskirts of the settlement, lowly one.” She turned away from her daughter and gazed at Wolf. As Nala backed slowly out of the tent, she gave Wolf a sad, broken smile. It wounded his soul to see her shamed, and his anger flared.

Taking note of Wolf’s rage, the queen said, “I am Dalla, leader of all the Nanna. Let me tell you how we came to be and why our laws require me to send my own daughter to the edge of the camp. In the time of the Never Ending Night, a family wandered into the great wasteland—one man, his wife, and three baby girls. The Fenrir, our animals today, roamed those wastes, and they were hungry. They spotted the family and attacked. The man threw his wife to the pack and abandoned his family. His wife stood firm, bravely defending her daughters. The pack leader stopped in front of her and asked, ‘Who are you to stand unafraid before the Fenrir?’ She looked at the leader, amazed it could talk, and replied, ‘I am Nanna, a loving mother who begs you to show mercy.’ The leader said, ‘We hunger, and the darkness is forevermore, flesh is what we crave,’ and the woman replied, ‘Accept mine as sacrifice and spare my children.’

“The Fenrir leader looked at the woman with pity; yet, his pack was starving, and the young were dying. ‘What am I to do with your young when you are devoured?’ Nanna replied, ‘Raise them as your own.’ The leader’s respect for the woman was high and he answered, ‘So be it—your life for theirs. I will make your death quick.’ He tore her throat out and the pack devoured her. The leader was true to his word and raised the woman’s three daughters as Fenrir. He taught them the way of the hunt, and when they were old enough, he told them of their father’s cowardice and how brave their mother had been. He said he regretted having to kill her, but his own young were starving. The girls took the name Nanna and grew strong in the way of fang and claw.

“To this day, we despise most men. We see how men show their cowardice, raping and killing the weak. Our sisters will not be subservient to cowards or inferior beings. We are predators and all are prey to our whips and blades. We use men merely to satisfy our lust. Love is a weakness…a taboo we do not tolerate. Nala shamed herself by falling for a common man…he is no better than Nanna’s cowardly husband who abandoned her and his daughters to the Fenrir. Her man’s vile actions prove our ways are just. That is why I expel my daughter to the edge of the camp as an outcast. Now tell me about yourself.”